


Down the road

by clydeside



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Americana, Ghost Hunting, M/M, Road Trips, Ryou and Malik are soft little disasters, Spirit Gate 13, or at least an attempt was made
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29155239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clydeside/pseuds/clydeside
Summary: Malik picks up a hitchhiker and his road trip suddenly detours into theweird.
Relationships: Angstshipping, Bakura Ryou/Malik Ishtar
Comments: 12
Kudos: 27
Collections: Spirit Gate Round 13





	Down the road

**Author's Note:**

> Battle City Challenge - Spirit Gate Round 13  
> Prompt: Riddle  
> Limit: 1000 words, broken neatly into 100-word drabbles because I can.
> 
> Thanks [Aurora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/auroraXborealis/) for encouraging me to try my hand at something a little different, and [RabidWeezul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RabidWeezul) for beta reading!

Malik has no plan, but his sister was so adamant that he couldn’t just drop everything to go on a cross-country road trip through America by himself that, well, the only reasonable answer was to do _exactly that_.

It’s good to be alone. Freedom from responsibilities. Freedom of the open road. He doesn’t have anywhere in mind, but this stretch of old highway, with dark pines walling each side of the road, makes him think maybe he doesn’t want to be quite _so_ alone.

He hasn’t seen anyone in hours.

And then he does. A hitchhiker, thumb up, looking hopeful.

He stops on the side of the road without even thinking.

“Where are you going?”

The young man has stark white hair, soft brown eyes, and a relieved smile. He’s wearing clean jeans, carrying a new backpack, and doesn’t _look_ like an axe murderer. If he is, he’s deceptively sweet looking, and Malik will take his chances.

“The next town please, if it’s not too much trouble.” He has an English accent, cheery and polite, and Malik grins. A fellow tourist in this sprawling, wild country.

He reaches across the passenger seat to push open the door. “Come on in.”

They’re pretty far from anything, and Malik gives up on finding a radio signal to break the silence. They don’t even exchange names.

Malik has been driving without any real destination, but his passenger is not so carefree. 

In fact, he’s unfolded a _gigantic_ map of the entire country, heavily marked with pen, and splayed it over his lap and the dashboard and over part of the window. There’s no sense to the locations from what Malik can glimpse, but his passenger is diligently X’ing out a place he had circled in the empty forest behind them.

“Hunting for treasure?”

His passenger holds up a dog-eared book. _America’s Most Haunted Places._

Malik gapes at him. “You’re _ghost_ hunting?”

“It’s just for fun.” He looks a little embarrassed, but continues, “I haven’t found anything yet.”

Well, _that’s_ worth revisiting his first impression of this guy. An upgrade from _cute probably-not-murderer_ to _cute occultist_ . It’s intriguing enough that he asks his name. _Ryou._

“So, you do séances or something? What’ll you do if you actually _find_ a ghost?”

Ryou shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll find a friend.”

Malik has to laugh. It’s so sweet and _weird_. “Mind if I join you?”

Ryou doesn’t mind, but it’s a long way to his next haunted landmark. They stop at a farmer’s stand to buy bread and fresh cheese, and Ryou picks up a jar of strawberry jam. It’s bright red, with checkered cloth tied over the metal lid.

He tucks it away, unopened, and Malik thinks nothing of it.

An hour later they’re driving up a narrow dirt road towards a ramshackle house deep in the woods. And yeah, the place looks _fucking haunted_ , Malik thinks as they pull up. His gut instinct is to throw the car in reverse and _nope_ out.

But there’s an excited light in Ryou’s eye and he’s out of the car before they've even fully stopped. Malik’s curiosity outweighs his nerves, so he follows his deceptively unassuming-looking travel companion.

The place is clearly vacant. The steps to the door are rotten, the roof sagging under age and pine-needles. But Ryou lets himself in without any hesitation and all Malik can do is try to keep up.

The interior is dim and cobwebbed and eerily silent. Toppled and broken furniture litter the floors. Ryou wanders through the whole place before stopping in the center of the living room.

“So how does this work?” Malik asks as he leans over Ryou’s shoulder.

Ryou’s pulling things out of his backpack; candles and a black cloth and a ouija board of all things, and Malik wants to laugh except this is the creepiest place he’s ever been, and Ryou looks so _earnest_.

But then Ryou pulls out that little jar and— shit, he can’t help himself.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Malik can hardly breathe through his laughter. “You’re going to try and summon a ghost using a pentagram drawn in _strawberry jam_?”

“Do you think it matters?” Ryou asks seriously.

“Listen, I’m no expert, but I’m _pretty_ sure you need like, blood or something.”

Ryou rolls his eyes. “That hasn’t worked either, so what difference does it make?”

Malik notices the red scabs on his white palm and stops laughing. “You’re actually serious about all this.” He really looks at him now. Ryou, all soft on the outside, but composed conviction on the inside.

The polar opposite to Malik’s brusque façade over his directionless, uncertain heart.

But he’s feeling certain about something right now.

He sits crossed legged beside Ryou.

“Alright, forget I said anything. Let’s find you a ghost.”

Ryou has a whole process for running a séance. They join hands while Ryou recites something – maybe latin? Malik’s heart is hammering, and there’s a thin layer of sweat between their palms. But he’s only looking at Ryou’s soft skin and closed eyes and white hair and oh there is _definitely_ something coming over him—

Malik is feeling something, but it’s no ghost.

“There’s nothing here,” Ryou says after a while. Malik can see the disappointment in his eyes, so he doesn’t let go of his hand.

“No, but I think you’ve found what you’re looking for.” 

Ryou smiles back.

It’s two months before they cross off the last location on Ryou’s map, and Malik still hasn’t quite cracked what drives Ryou to seek out these strange places.

But he likes Ryou’s sense of purpose. A compass needle to Malik’s free-wheeling whimsy.

And Ryou likes something about _him_. So while they’re stopped in another small town for gas on a scorching August afternoon, Malik spots something on a jumbled bookshelf. He doesn’t even pay for it, just tucks it under his shirt.

In the car, Ryou’s disapproving look is quickly chased away by a smile.

_50 Real American Ghost Stories._

**Author's Note:**

> I just love them a lot ok

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * A [Restricted Work] by [Five_seas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Five_seas/pseuds/Five_seas) Log in to view. 




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